


Love (noun) : an intense feeling of deep affection

by AndTheBeatIsAtMyDoor



Series: Character Studies [1]
Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Brendon Urie Being an Asshole, Character Study, F/M, George Ross’ A+ Parenting, Heart Belongs to Someone Else, I Can’t Write For Shit Lol, I Mean I Don’t Think It Ever Specifies But It’s Brendon In The Past, M/M, Never Mind It Specifies Once, POV Z Berg, Past Child Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Past Ryan Ross/Brendon Urie, Really Just a Character Study, Romance, Ryan Really Tries But He Can’t, Ryan Ross Character Study, Ryan Ross Deserves Better, Ryan Ross is Damaged, Z Berg Deserves Better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26227759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndTheBeatIsAtMyDoor/pseuds/AndTheBeatIsAtMyDoor
Summary: “I can’t explain what it feels like to love Ryan Ross in a way more than fraternal.Maybe like a serein. Rain falling from a cloudless sky. On the surface or from afar it appears sunny. Bright. Beautiful. But when you stand in it, you realize it’s cold. Wet. Dark. Unfamiliar.“
Relationships: Ryan Ross/Brendon Urie, Z Berg & Ryan Ross, Z Berg/Ryan Ross
Series: Character Studies [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1904920
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	Love (noun) : an intense feeling of deep affection

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LongTalksandCupsOfCoffee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LongTalksandCupsOfCoffee/gifts).



> So basically I wrote this whole thing in like a week while I was in online classes (yeah I suck at being a good student), so here’s the product of my procrastination! Enjoy.
> 
> I don’t presume to know anything about Ryan Ross or Ryan Ross’ personal relationships. This is just something I chose to write.

I love Ryan Ross. 

**Love (** **_noun_ ** **) : an intense feeling of deep affection.**

I don’t feel romantic attraction to him.

Maybe once, a long time ago. But not anymore.

I can’t explain what it feels like to love Ryan Ross in a way more than fraternal.

Maybe like a serein. Rain falling from a cloudless sky. On the surface or from afar it appears sunny. Bright. Beautiful. But when you stand in it, you realize it’s cold. Wet. Dark. Unfamiliar.

I knew he never loved me. Maybe not even in a platonic way. His heart was taken from him long ago, and it still belongs to someone else. Even when we were together, he was never truly there.

He can say he loves me. But I know more than what he shows me.

When he touched me, he was touching rougher skin.

When he kissed me, he was kissing fuller lips.

When he laughed with me, he was laughing with a louder heart.

When he laid with me, he was laying with a stronger body.

When he sang with me, he was singing with a brighter voice.

He never sold himself to me, the way I did to him. He’d done that a long time ago.

Once, I told him this. He protested. Loudly. Tried to take my arms, take my embrace. As if he could gather his heart up and try with all his might to make it love me.

I admit, I was angry. After all, who wouldn’t be when the person you gave your heart to wouldn’t and couldn’t act in return. 

But I was also resigned. It wasn’t his fault that he fell too early, fell long before I even met him. 

Fell back when straightened hair was cool and all the boys wore v-necks and tight pants. Fell back when he liked to decorate his face with swirling, colorful patterns. Enjoyed the freedom it gave him, the mask he could hide behind.

I never knew him like that. Sure, when I met him, sometimes he’d line his eyes with dark, add a little color to his cheeks.

His wardrobe choices were a lot different, but in a way, those were a mask too. He’d cover his neck with scarves, protecting his vulnerable points. He’d dress up to be the part the public thought he was. He didn’t dress for himself until way later, when he figured out that he didn’t have to please others with his choices.

Of course, that belief had been ingrained in him so long that it was basically a part of him. Even if he made little changes, his life still belonged to anyone who would ask.

And did they ask.

The fans, wanting him to be an icon, wanting him to speak out, to _love me Ryan!!!!_ , to be what _they_ need. What _they_ want.

His father, forcing him to grow up too quick, wanting him to be quiet, to _get the fuck out_ , to be what _he_ needs. What _he_ wants.

The kids in his high school, asking him to do their homework, wanting him to shut up, to _stay down you little shit_ , to be what _they_ need. What _they_ want.

The old friends, demanding him to reconnect, wanting him to grant them fame, to _mention me Ryan_ , to be what _they_ need. What _they_ want.

The old bandmates, requesting him to do more work, wanting him to write better lyrics, to _rework that bass part_ , to be what _they_ need. What _they_ want.

The old girlfriends, imploring him to put in more effort, wanting him to take control, to _touch_ _me Ryan why can’t you love me_ , to be what _they_ need. What _they_ want.

And him. 

The boy who stole his heart away and never bothered to return it.

Even now, over 15 years from when they met, he isn’t whole.

Really, it depends on what you believe. If you believe that everything happens for a reason, and that someone or something gave Ryan all the exact traits and temperament to bring him to this point today, then I guess you must also believe that they brought him to that point, 15 years ago, when Ryan Ross met Brendon Urie.

He told me the story once, when we broke it off the first time. It was done hesitantly, and at one point he almost stopped. It was only after I explained that I actually wanted to hear it that he continued. I think that was the first time I realized he could never truly love  _ me _ . 

The way he talked about him told it all. He said his name like it was the most beautiful symphony ever played. He described his style with a smile on his face and a wistful look in his eyes like he was remembering some distant, fond memory, dulled only by the passage of time.

He also told me about the first time they kissed.

_ “It was- well I mean it wasn’t the  _ **_best_ ** _ \- I can see you smirking - but I mean I was 19, and he was just barely 18, I’d dropped out of college, and he’d just gotten kicked out. Neither of us were in a good place, emotionally, and I guess, uhm, it was just sorta a codependency thing, not anything, eh, serious.”  _

He had a tendency to lie back then.

To the day he dies, I believe he will never truly forget those memories, even if he forgets almost everything else.

Getting him to open up to me was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. It took willpower, and an extremely large amount of patience. But once he started talking, it was like he couldn’t stop, even if he wanted to.

Everything he ever wanted to say came tumbling out. He’d locked it all up in some dark corner, away from the spotlights, away from the flashing cameras, and it couldn’t  **wait** to be free.

He told me everything. Every date, every kiss, every mic share on stage. He told me how he had supported him when his parents kicked him out, and how the same thing had been done to him when he and his dad argued over college. And again when his dad died.

He told me about how he went with him to the funeral. How they both dressed up in black, and how when, afterwards, Ryan started crying, he held him until the tears went away.

Listening to him made me almost believe. Believe that there could be someone out there who could know me like that, who could hold me, who could love me like that. I don’t know if I’ll ever truly know if that’s real. But what I do know is this:

Ryan Ross is not that person for me.

He already found his. 

He might have lost his person. That depends on whether you think they could be lost. 

Can people be lost?  
  


You can fall out, you can fall in, you can move out, you can move in. You can argue, you can make up. You can split, or you can stay together.

But do you ever really lose them?

You can lose the memories. Memories fade over time. But you can never lose the feelings. Even if you can’t remember what they’re tied to, what they connect with, they’ll always be there. Unanchored, loose, but there.

So you can’t ever truly lose them.

And that’s why Ryan Ross will never love me. He hasn’t lost  _ his  _ love. His soul is tied to another, and maybe, one day, they’ll run into each other again. And maybe, they’ll decide to start all over again. Maybe it won’t work. But maybe it will.

And that’s fine by me.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Yeah I hope you enjoyed my brain spiel, but basically I had an idea to avoid writing long fics that I abandon halfway and instead focus my energy on one-shots. So, thanks for reading, I guess?


End file.
